Phantom Pain
by ApolloBlackwood
Summary: In order to deal with an unpleasant witness the prosecutors ask me, Phoenix Wright, for help. In the end, the solution might have been easier than first anticipated. Contains spoilers up to Dual Destinies.
1. First Ordeal

**Ann.: Following story contains Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Trilogy, Apollo Justice and Dual Destinies Spoilers.**

Ann. 2: I reworked the first chapter almost a 3/4 year ago. The plot is roughly the same but I improved a couple of scenes.

* * *

**Phantom Pain**

**-x-**

Throughout my time as lawyer I got used to seeing prosecutors shaken by truth. One after another I have faced them in courtroom battles and fiercely defended my clients' innocence until the bitter end.

This sight, however, was new to me.

"Edgeworth?" The Chief Prosecutor has his back turned to me, facing his office's window from where he can look over almost the whole city. His arms are crossed behind his back and yet I can see that he's shaking. "What's up with you guys?" The three prosecutors on the couch under the picture frame with Edgeworth's old fancy suit look into the empty air with gloomy dark faces. They don't answer – as if they didn't even notice me.

"We deal with a very unpleasant and unusual situation at hand, Wright", I hear Edgeworth speak up.

"Unusual?" I rub my chin. "This sounds serious. I mean all of you have already faced me in court at least once. And I think I do some pretty unusual stuff so you must already have a high standard ... right?" I grin but nobody seems to get my reference. I shake my head. "Okay, what's up?"

Edgeworth turns around, the frown on his face deeper than usual. I hate seeing him like that but thankfully his darkness doesn't reappear often since we resolved DL-6. I have a strange gut feeling.

"I think you should see for yourself. He's in for questioning, at present. We didn't succeed to draw out answers from him. Maybe you can help us out."

"He?"

-x-

* * *

-x-

Edgeworth leads me to the interrogation rooms with a short explanation that says "Be careful, he's dangerous" along the lines. I'm no stranger to examining witnesses who usually are only allowed to being interrogated by detectives or prosecutors. But to lessen the prosecution's advantage in court a defense attorney has to quickly learn to bend the boundaries a bit.

Two bailiffs stand outside questioning room Nr. 4 and on the Chief Prosecutor's signal they step aside to let me in. Inside I spot a very familiar face.

"You …!" I freeze. He smiles broadly and runs his fingers through his hair.

"Hello Mister Lawyer dude. Long time no see." There is no way this is happening.

"They put you behind bars. You are guilty. You confessed your crimes."

"What are you talking about? I'm as refreshing as a spring breeze, remember?" Matt Engarde pulls out an antenna from his wrist phone and talks into it with widened eyes. "You want to restart the Nickel Samurai and need me as the lead role? Yes, I'll just have to clear up that misunderstanding and afterwards I'm free."

I don't understand. Engarde is a relict from the past, a former client who had betrayed my trust, and should not be here, with that oblivious smile plastered over his face. I have seen the true man behind the mask: the man who thought he could pressure me into getting him a not-guilty verdict in court by abducting Maya and forcing me to play along with his scheme.

"Mister Lawyer dude?"

I shake my head, still standing at the door. My knees feel weak.

If not for one major slip-up in Engarde's calculations -

if not for Edgeworth's and Gumshoe's help with Maya's rescue while I had to stall for time during the trial -

if not for one little camera that Engarde used to film the murder by the hired assassin Shelly DeKiller to expose him should the need arise -

if not for Engarde's inability to truly trust anybody -

"So I was wondering - you say you get complete acquittals for every of your clients. And you always believe in your client, no matter what. But still you played dirty in my trial to get me into prison. You let the filthy murderer walk free – um, don't you think that's a bit … unfair?"

I turn around, tear open the door and step outside. The door falls into lock with a loud BANG.

Edgeworth leans against the opposite wall and adjusts his glasses as I step outside. I don't need to say a word, he knows me well enough.

"Do you understand what I mean?", he asks calmly.

"No. Why?", I press the question through clenched teeth, resisting the urge to hit something.

"Who was it?", he asks.

"What? Are you joking? You don't remember Matt Engarde?"

"Matt Engarde? I see." Edgeworth takes off his glasses and polishes them silently with a handkerchief. He gives me the time to get a hold of myself again. I breathe out audibly and ask an obvious question: "What is going on here, Edgeworth?"

"This isn't Engarde, Wright. It's the Phantom, formerly known as Bobby Fulbright."

"Wow." Now things become clearer. The puzzle pieces start moving into place.

Edgeworth puts on his glasses and signals me to follow him. "I have to apologize to you, Wright. It wasn't my intention to make you suffer in any respect. The Phantom treated every other prosecutor the same way he treated you - a fact made clear by this little experiment. Indeed, I wish it conducted differently." During Edgeworth's explanation we pass several offices and turn into the small surveillance room filled with electronic devices and humming monitors. "We have filmed our previous questioning attempts. Take a look at the footage and see for yourself what happened."

He sits down at one of many screens and his fingers fly over a keyboard, selecting the needed data. I know the look on his face. Edgeworth always acts aloof and frigid when he's suppressing painful memories, in his dumb belief that he has to bear everything on his own shoulders.

-x-

* * *

**Footage #1**

-x-

"Papa?" Franziska Von Karma nearly drops her whip as she steps into the questioning room. There is an exact replica of Manfred Von Karma sitting at the table, the same grim face and posture as when he kneads his sleeves, arms crossed in front of his chest. He emits an equally intimidating aura as the real Von Karma – I can feel it from the other side of the screen even if it's just a footage.

"You disappoint me, Franziska", Manfred growls. I notice that Edgeworth tenses up but I resist the urge to put a hand onto his shoulder. He wouldn't want me to pity him.

"What foolish fool has the foolhardy audacity to allow himself foolish tomfoolery with me? Is this your foolish idea of a joke, Miles Edgeworth?" Franziska grabs her whip tighter and approaches the questioning table resolutely, baring her teeth. "We will talk about your foolhardiness after I am finished with the witness, Miles Edgeworth!" I must say, I admire her strength. This is definitely not how I could react to Manfred Von Karma.

"Hah. Don't you see it, Franziska? Miles Edgeworth triumphs over you once more. Look at you, child." With a click of his tongue Manfred wags his finger at Franziska, who stares at him incredulous, taken aback.

"What?"

"You failed again, Franziska. Miles will always be better than you. He's the real prodigy of the Von Karma family. Both of us know that."

"What? N-no. No you are wrong." Franziska stands petrified next to the questioning table, wide eyes fixed upon Manfred's disapproving face. "I-i am the pro-" He snaps with his fingers.

"Didn't I raise you to be perfect? A real Von Karma is immaculate and ALWAYS wins the guilty verdict in court. And you? You're giving in under pressure like the rookie that you are." Manfred's devilish smile gives me the chills to my very bones. I lean forward and subconsciously hit the table with both hands. I can see Franziska's shoulders quiver, a sight I have never seen before. From all the words I'd connect with her "giving in" wasn't part of my vocabulary. "Get out of this room. NOW. You are a smirch for the family's name."

Here the footage freezes. I notice that Edgeworth holds my wrist with an iron grip. I turn my head to the side and meet his eyes that are studying me.

"You have been muttering 'Objection' to yourself, Wright. It's the Phantom, remember that. What he says is not real. Franziska knows that too."

"He's convincing."

"We weren't prepared. We didn't take precautions. We were foolish."

-x-

* * *

**Footage #2**

-x-

"We both know you're fake, ja?" Klavier brushes back the strand of hair that fell into his eyes. He gives off a relaxed vibe. "Why don't we go right to business? Herr Forehead is waiting for me to look over some case files for him. I want to finish this up quickly."

"How does he pull that off? I thought you confiscated everything the Phantom had on him. But somehow he's the spitting image of Kristoph now." I narrow my eyes. My memories of Kristoph Gavin are not of the kind you'd like to remember anytime.

"At this point we took precautions. I had a talk with Gavin and warned him but the Phantom was triumphant again. Watch."

"Klavier, what are you trying to prove here?" Kristoph is smiling politely.

"I am going to expose your backgrounds, Phantom. Are you involved with Borginia? Zheng Fa? Cohdopia?" Klavier leans over the table, his chains accompanying his forward movement audibly.

"Klavier. Listen to yourself for a moment. We have time enough. May I remind you that it's only you and me here?" Kristoph lowers his head and raises the right hand to touch his temple with a smug smile. "I don't suggest you know what you're doing. Through your actions you have caused more damage than I can iron out in a lifetime." He shakes his head.

"This is not about you here!", Klavier blurts, his hands clenched to fists. Gone is the relaxed vibe that he kept around him earlier. The rockstar has made place for the prosecutor and Klavier's face spells serious business.

"No, it's not about me", Kristoph agrees and presses his glasses up his nose so that his eyes are hidden behind the light's reflection dancing on the lenses. "Face it, Klavier. You always wanted a fair match against me, ever since you first stepped into court as rookie. And now you are determined to finish your dream here, in this very room."

"Nein." Klavier stands up with a jolt, kicking over his chair. "It doesn't matter if you're Kristoph or the Phantom or anybody else. I will best you."

"Let's see you try." Kristoph's creepy smile sometimes follows me to my nightmares and I wake up with a scream at the back of my throat whenever it haunts me. Right now, I'm thankful that Kristoph is behind the monitor and that Edgeworth is close by my side, his hand resting on mine. The soft pressure on my fingers reminds me of the circumstances. It's the Phantom, I tell myself. "You have failed with everything you've touched. Rock star career, brother? You weren't able to write any songs since Daryan betrayed you."

"I am stronger now, Kristoph." Klavier sweats, eyebrows furrowed, but determined to stand his ground. He leans over the table, both hands pressed on the tabletop. "I have bested you in court, I have put you behind bars, Apollo -"

"You have always depended on other people, Klavier." Kristoph's left mouth's corner twitches in annoyance. "You talk about strength? It takes strength to admit the truth. Face it, face your precious veracity, brother. You can't do anything on your own." Kristoph stands up and leans into Klavier's personal space, his ice-blue stare freezing the ocean-blue of Klavier's eyes. "How does failing feel, Klavier?", Kristoph whispers aggressively. "In court, in front of your fans and your oh so precious Herr Forehead?"

Edgeworth pauses the video again. I study the frozen image of the two Gavin brothers, who couldn't be more different from one another. I don't hold a grudge against Klavier - I in fact never did. I can't help but feel sorry for him though. He never decided to have Kristoph as his brother. He never decided to spend his time with the only family he had left.

Back when I had nothing to believe in anymore, after I have lost my badge, I had the decision. And I chose Kristoph deliberately. With my own free will. I had a choice that Klavier never had.

"We tried to intervene. The only solution left for me to pursuit seemed to be Blackquill." Edgeworth sighs heavily.

-x-

* * *

**Footage #3**

-x-

"Fool Bright." Simon Blackquill smirks at his opponent. "Be a good little boy and tell me your secrets."

Opposite of Prosecutor Blackquill sits a female person, her face like a greek statue: both sublimely beautiful but with engraved traces of deep sorrow and grief. And yet another time I'm surprised by the Phantom's transformation skills. Even the voice on the recording sounds 1 to 1 like Metis Cykes'.

"Thank you for saving Athena, Simon."

"I know my psychology as well as you do. Drop your act. You know I'm merciless. I will cut you down if you don't talk." Simon taps his forehead with cut-off movements. Metis doesn't appear to be moved by that threat. She smiles at him but the smile doesn't change the sadness in her eyes.

"You are a true samurai, Simon. Upright and loyal from the heart. Thank you for protecting Athena with your life." I tense up as Simon leans forward and places a hand on the table, expecting another breakdown on footage but my worry is misplaced. Simon lifts his hand and hits the table hard, laughing loudly.

"Stop blathering like a bubbly-jock and start talking about business already, Phantom. Every country is after your blood. We have the privilege of being first but we don't have much time." While he's talking, tears start running down Metis' cheeks.

"Forgive me, Simon", she whispers and wipes away the tears from her skin, eyes averted. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you." Simon's eyes glare with bloodlust.

"You are not Cykes-dono. Don't sully her name, Phantom."

"To think that you're so oblivious to the truth." Metis folds her hands like for prayer, more tears flowing down her cheeks. "Don't you understand, Simon? It's all my fault. I can't change it."

"You won't keep your quiet, will you." Simon lowers his head, angry. "Good, Phantom. If a fight is what you want then a fight you will get. I hope for your sake that your sword is as sharp as you will have me believe it is."

"I'm the Phantom." Metis presses the knuckles of her left hand against her mouth, shaking in her seat, averting her gaze.

"I know that."

"No, Simon. _I am_ the Phantom."

"Do you hold me an utter fool?" Simon jumps up in sudden understanding what Metis is saying and slams both fists against the table. "Metis Cykes is NOT the Phantom!" I turn my head to look at Edgeworth for a second so I miss the movements but on the monitor, Simon has Metis grabbed by her collar and glares down at her. I whimper. "How do you suppose did HAT-2 work then?", he asks dangerously calmly.

"Spirit Channeling."

"No", I mutter aghast. Simon stumbles back, a hand pressed against his chest, his composure melted like ice in the hot sun. "That's moonshine on water", he breathes unbelieving. Metis turns away, stretches a hand out and touches the wood of the fallen over table softly, chewing her lip.

"I wish it were. The truth is rarely simple, Simon, and often …", her voice breaks and she falls silent again.

"You sully Cykes-dono's name, Phantom. Drop this. Drop this right now. I won't stand your shady words any longer. You took Fool Bright, you took Clay Terran. You won't. Take. Cykes-dono." Simon slides one leg backwards and goes into his knees, ready to draw his imaginary sword.

"You were ready to die for Athena when you thought that she killed me", Metis whispers. When she turns her head, her eyes are looking at Simon accusingly. "You said you did it in memory of me. And yet, you are not ready to cover for my actions as Phantom?"

"You!", Simon shouts. This instant, the door flies open and bailiffs barge into the room, and the monitor with the footage goes black.

"N-no, wait!" I wipe away the beads of sweat from my forehead, fazed. "What happened?" I turn to Edgeworth, honestly intimidated. I can't believe that I was able to capture this creature through the power of evidence in court.

"Not even Blackquill could withstand the pain that the Phantom encloses on us even though we all know it's a lie."

"What … what did he do to you?", I ask, nervously licking over my bottom lip.

"It doesn't matter now. What we need is a solution."

"And you think I will be the solution you need?"

"No", a third voice cuts in. I turn to look at Simon Blackquill, who leans with his arms crossed in front of his chest against the door frame and is chewing on one of Taka's feathers. "I said that if someone can make the impossible possible then it's you, Wright-dono. This enemy wields a phantom sword whose blade is as sharp as the enemy's tongue. Your bluffs are made of phantom material as well." He shrugs. "There seems to be no threat in the air during your blabbering, Wright-dono, but before any of us could wake up from our slumber we have been struck down and defeated already." Simon smirks. "So cast your magic and bring down the Phantom."

Honestly, I'm not ready for this. But then, when was I ever ready …

I think about it again, replay everything that I have learned today before my inner eye, return to the basics because that's what a defense attorney must do in order to make the impossible possible. Truly, after you have eliminated everything that's impossible the only answer left is what must be true. A piece of advice that I have learned from a certain prosecutor during one of my trials.

The Phantom seems to be prepared for every situation. So what if …

"What if we turn our thinking around?", I ask out loud. The surprised looks on both Edgeworth's and Blackquill's face fill me with new enthusiasm. This is not much different than my usual way of solving problems - pretend to know until you actually know. "We mustn't ask 'Who can face the Phantom?'. We have to ask 'Why would the Phantom fail to influence someone?' And I have just the right idea for this!"

"You're bluffing, aren't you?"

"You should know me better than that. When have I ever bluffed, Edgeworth?", I say as confident as possible.

-x-

* * *

-x-

Chains clank with every step he takes. It's the only sound that fills the corridor as two bailiffs escort him to the Chief Prosecutor's Office. He steps inside and grins but doesn't say a word until the bailiffs leave.

"What gives me the honor to be called in front of four prosecutors at once?"

"Take a seat." Edgeworth motions towards a chair in front of his shelves and waits until the newcomer sits down.

"Fancy to meet you here, Eyas. It got boring in the clink after your departure. Nobody there can endure the bitterness of my blends."

"Why don't we share a cup for reunion, Armando-dono?" Blackquill makes an abrupt movement with his head. As if on order Taka flaps his wings and flies through the open door. He reappears chasing a panicking bailiff, who carries two cups of coffee. "Good, Taka, good." Blackquill caresses his hawk, who landed on his shoulder again, and takes one cup from the shaking bailiff. "Blend #107 if I'm not mistaken."

"As dark and bitter as my past." Diego Armando inhales the aromatic scent of coffee and takes a sip. "Now business can get started. I'm all ears, Chief."

"Herr Edgeworth, if I may." Klavier shifts his weight on the couch and waits until he has everybody's attention in the room. "Herr Armando, we hope that you could help us out with an inconvenient witness." He leans against the couch's back and crosses his legs. "I'm thrilled to meet the legend himself."

"A fallen legend." Franziska pulls at her whip, unfazed by the change of atmosphere. "We must punish the Phantom for its audacity. I want the death sentence and I won't allow any other verdict in court."

"Now there Snakelet, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Phantom? Do the dead come back to haunt us?" Diego looks directly at me and smirks. Even though I can't see his eyes beneath his mask I know that he's covering the actual sadness behind this last remark.

"That's accurate", Blackquill says and puts down his emptied mug.

"Spirit channeling?"

"No. Remember Fool Bright? Turns out there was more than madness in him. He's the person I've been hunting after for years. The Phantom."

Armando whistles. "Who would have thought? Fill me in, Eyas. What's the deal with the Phantom now?"

"He's using our emotions and fear against us. We're faced with a calculating killer who knows exactly what he's doing. He gets inside our heads and under our skin. We can't oppose him with traditional methods."

"Sounds like your analytical psychology for me." Armando downs his coffee, conscious of the different pairs of eyes resting on him, waiting. He takes his time. "Where do I fit in? Do you think I fear nothing because I've lost everything?"

"No, that's not it." I gulp and wind internally as Armando silently turns to look at me. I already had a talk with someone who is in prison because of me today and one time a day is enough.

"What's in it for me?", he finally speaks up.

"Partial freedom", Edgeworth jumps in. "You'd be permitted to leave prison like Prosecutor Blackquill when he was allowed to prosecute despite serving in prison. With my word you'd be placed directly under his supervision."

"Under the eyas' gaze." He puts a finger against his forehead. "So the Phantom plays with us like kitten with mice. Tell me, what's the fighting plan?"

After I finished explaining the plan Armando throws his head back and guffaws. "Really now? Hell comes back to haunt its former denizen. I will never escape my dark and bitter fate, won't I?"

-x-

Minutes later he and I stand in front of questioning room Nr. 4 again. "I hope you're prepared, Wright", Diego murmurs. I nod.

"The defense was born ready", I answer sincerely. Diego exhales through his mouth and lifts his hands. I watch him take off his visor, surprised about his action. "Mister Armando?"

"Wright, there are things a man can forgive others but can never forgive himself." He's gripping that visor as if it was his only foothold. "If what you said is true then I have no right to lay eyes upon her again. For what I need to do for my atonement is to finish this chapter once and for all. Not being able to see is a blessing for a sinner." He thrusts his visor into my hands, his eyes dark with determination and sorrow. I don't understand most of what Diego is talking about and yet, this sentiment I can understand. The darkest of times is when lawyers force their biggest smiles.

Diego opens the door and enters. I close my eyes and pray for success because yes, I haven't thought it through until the very end but I will have to see how my plan goes anyways. I can't stop now and I definitely can't turn back.

One day, one bluff will be the death of me.

My mobile phone rings. I hastily search for it through my pockets, grab it and send one last prayer for success to anyone who wants to hear it, but - "It's not Fey, Wright."

"What?"

"You said the Phantom would take on the appearance of Mia Fey. He didn't. It's Hawthorne." My heart beats so loud that I wonder how Edgeworth doesn't hear it on the other side of the line. Blood is rushing through my head and I think I might right off drop down dead. I faintly hear Franziska shouting in the background: "This foolish fool is foolishly bluffing, is he not? Phoenix Wright, you foolish excuse of a lawyer! I want-"

Edgeworth starts talking and overlaps with Franziska's voice. He's completely calm and stands in krass contrast with his younger sister. "Wright, I'm waiting for your next suggestion."

Next suggestion? This was my only suggestion. Consult Diego Armando and send him in to see how it will go. I haven't thought any farther than that!

I press a hand against the nearest wall to stabilize myself - to hold onto something while my plan crumbles down-, bend over and force myself to breathe. What have I done?

"Herr Wright?" The polite voice brings me back to reality. "You're looking a bit pale there. Can I have a word with you?" Klavier looks unusually tense, his hands buried deep in his pants' pockets.

"Go on", I croak, holding onto my phone but not holding it to my ear anymore.

"In this situation, Fräulein Cykes would conduct a therapy session with you and lower the discord of your voice. Apollo would suggest to do his Chords of Steel training with you, Herr Wright, and tell you that you're fine." Klavier brushes back the strand of hair over his shoulder and nervously starts playing with the chains that hang from his belt with his free hand.

"I admire that he can stand upright and look forward after that disaster of a trial last time. The bombing, ja? He has told me everything about it when I was in hospital to see him." He grabs his Gavinner's necklace and holds it tightly enclosed in his fist. "He told me something about the retrial of Herr Blackquill. After his fall, he could stand up again because you were there to help him. And he helped you too. Together you were able to capture the Phantom. You couldn't have done it alone. Not without the help of Fräulein Cykes or Herr Blackquill either."

He inhales through his mouth. "M-maybe the Phantom is right. Maybe I do depend on other people. But I couldn't have succeeded without any of you. I wouldn't stand where I stand now without you. And that's important to me."

I stare at Klavier. Through the phone in my hands - I still hold it close enough to my ear for what comes next - I can hear Franziska shouting in full volume: "Phoenix Wright, do you listen to me, foolish fool?!" I open my mouth, close it again, open it another time.

"Sorry, Franziska, I have to try something out." I terminate the call while she is in mid-sentence (I will have plenty of time to regret this action later), and close the short distance between Klavier and me. Following a gut feeling I wrap my arms around the rockstar and press him into a hug (not one of my most awkward ones). With new enthusiasm I straighten up again, smile and say: "Thank you, Klavier. This is exactly what I needed."

"Glad to have been of help, Herr Wright." The rockstar's cheeks have gone slightly red but he doesn't know how golden his words really were.

I'm not alone.

I open the door to questioning room Nr. 4 and enter. I know what I have to expect. Still, the sight hits me like a fist in the stomach. I can see from the corner of my eyes that Diego feels the same even though we both know it's the Phantom that we're facing, not Dahlia Hawthorne.

"Feenie? What do you think you're doing here?" She smiles sweetly but her eyes are piercingly hateful. I gulp. The Phantom, I think, it's the Phantom.  
A nasty voice in the back of my head whispers: And what if it's spirit channeling?

No, nobody would channel Dahlia again. We have that option out of world. For ever.

"I told you, Squab. Pretending to be the devil's spirit won't do you any good." Diego runs a hand over his face. He looks tired. I step closer, take a chair and sit down next to him. This is one gigantic bluff, standing on shaky legs. But if somebody can pull it off, it's me.

Me and my friends.

"She won't speak, Wright. Just as stubborn as she was last trial. I thought she understood that she can't win." Diego doesn't say "You were mistaken about what form the Phantom would take" but it's in the air.

"I'm sorry", I apologize to Diego, then turn to Dahlia, who is playing with her hair, aloof. I can feel my insides turn and twist from this scene. "So, Dollie, are you ready to be defeated again?"

"Defeated … again?", she sneers. My skin is itching from the poison in her voice.

"You can't keep up anymore, Phantom. You're trapped."

"Trapped?", she repeats. Her eyes flash hatefully and the room seems to heat up some degrees. "Oh I beg you, Feenie. Your performance as a lawyer is laughable at best. What good can you even do?" She laughs hysterically, covering her mouth with one hand. "Mister Lawyer will agree that you failed at the most basic task: saving Mia Fey even though you were right there."

Diego flinches. The Phantom finds the points where it hurts most and applies pressure until opposition breaks under the weight of emotions.

I close my eyes for a second and shake my head. The worst of times is when lawyers have to force their biggest smiles.

Dahlia's smile wavers as she sees me smiling broadly, then darkens. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You mirror your opponent's fears very convincingly, Hawthorne. I saw the video footages. But there are situations where even you would fail. Can you think of anything?"

"You're bluffing, Feenie. You disgusting jerk of a lawyer with your disgusting methods. You spiky-haired buffoon, do you hold me for -!" She gets onto her feet, burning with anger. I duck under her eyes and hear a sound that I did not expect.

Diego is laughing. "I've got bad news for you, Squab. You got entangled in your own web."

"My own web?" Burning rage doesn't remotely describe Dahlia anymore. The laugh must have irritated her more than me. "What are you talking about, idiot? Just listen to yourself, you pitiful nothing!" Her voice is turning into screeching.

"You will soon find out that there are forces much more frightening than you, Squab. I can't see you, devil, and I thank the heavens for that little mercy but I feel that we have ascended into the familiar depths of hell." Diego slams his fist on the table, his smile twisting into a painful grimace. "Do you even know what evils reside here? I hear your biggest fear approaching."

The door behind us opens and Dahlia's eyes widen. She bares her teeth and points at Diego. "Fool! She prosecuted one of my trials, she KNOWS me!"

"Phoenix. Wright."

The Phantom mirrors his opponent's fears convincingly ... Pressure until emotions overflow ... Why would the Phantom fail to influence somebody? … Using our emotions and fears against us. … Your bluffs are made of phantom material as well.

I'm not alone.

A smile lightens up my face and I puff myself up confidently. I knew my bluff would work out!

"So what if you had to choose one persona for different people present? Can you sell your bluff then, Phantom?"

"Nnngh … Gh! No …. Shut up!"

"Only Wright and I know the truth behind Hawthorne, the truth behind the case that sealed my prison sentence. Snakelet however knows you too … Iris. Just like we need it." Diego puts his chin onto his folded hands and smiles. "So tell me, what personality will you decide on now?"

"Iris?" The Phantom's eyes flicker back and forth. "I am not-" She claws her shoulder, breathing heavily.

"Phoenix. Wright."

"A man can atone for his sins when he opposes lies. He can forgive as long as he doesn't forget. I will never forget, Hawthorne. Your worst enemy has told me that I am more than my lost soul. And your punishment will be my atonement." Diego stands up, one hand on the table's surface. I look at him confused, not sure why he moves around the table, but with the first whip slash I understand why he moved out of the way.

"Ouch!" I try to jump up but it's just as Diego said: Do you even know what evils reside here?

"Foolish" Whip slash Ouch! "Fool" Whip slash Ouch! "How dare you" Whip slash Ouch! "to hang up" Whip slash Ouch! "on me" Whip slash Ouch! "while I'm talking?!" Whip slash Ouch ouch ouch!. I prepare myself for the next round (I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!) but it doesn't happen. Cautiously, I open my eyes again and let my hands sink.

Franziska points accusingly at Dahlia and shouts: "Iris Hawthorne, your pitiful charade ends here! I will bring you down with my own hands like the perfect Von Karma always does!" I'm safe for now.

"This", Dahlia leers at Armando, "won't happen to me!"

"Heh." Diego buries his hands in his pants' pockets, smirking. "Did nobody tell you, Phantom? I thought you knew. Whatever Hawthorne did was destined to fail. You can't win with this face."

"No!" Dahlia runs around the table and grabs her hair, tearing it upwards. "Look at me, Von Karma! You're perfect, aren't you? Remember, you rescued Iris from the Sacred Cavern so there is no way-"

"No." Franziska cracks her whip. "I rescued Maya Fey from the Sacred Cavern. Sister Iris was in court to testify for the prosecution. Don't be foolish."

"Bitch, don't you realize that we don't look anything alike?!" Dahlia claws her shoulder again, bent over. I slightly try to move out of the way but Franziska's whip comes flying down on my back faster than a viper's bite. I scream out in pain.

"I'm not finished with you yet, Phoenix Wright." She gives a little curtsey. "Phantom, you said it yourself: A Von Karma always gets the guilty verdict. I will not fail this time. I will best Miles Edgeworth."

"NOOOO!" The agonizing scream flashes through the room like a bolt of lightning and is just as fast gone. Dahlia flexes unnaturally backwards, her head almost touching the floor, her eyes glowing with - nothing. Complete emptiness. After all the Phantom was through he still has no emotions. And when Dahlia stands straight up again, there is only a left over figure, not entirely Dahlia anymore but also nobody else familiar.

"Leave the Squab to me. Oh, and Wright. Bring me coffee. I'll need the caffeine in my veins to function properly." Diego sits down at his chair again. "You better start running. And another thing. Good luck with Snakelet, Wright."

Outrunning an insulted Franziska's whip must prove impossible for even athlete's results - definitely out of my reach.

-x-

* * *

-x-

"I must say you never fail to amaze", Edgeworth tells me over a cup of tea after the questioning.

"We did get fooled by the twins more than once. Just recount", I answer and whimper in pain when I shift my weight a bit to grab a cookie. Franziska showed me no mercy.

"So the plan was to get the Phantom into an … identity trap?" Edgeworth shakes his head. "Impressive."

"Exactly."

"How do those ideas come to your mind, Wright? You must be a species for yourself. Maybe I should give the right people the right hint to get an examination of how your brain works." Edgeworth lifts his tea cup and takes a sip. "Thinking about it", he continues in his monologue, "in fact we could have placed any unrelated third party into the room with the questioning prosecutor … Wright?"

I grimace because lifting my arm to scratch the back of my head isn't exactly the most pleasant movement right now. "I guess we could have done that, Edgeworth. I just … didn't think of that."

Edgeworth recoils. "NGGOOOH! WRIGHT!"


	2. Intermission

_Am I human?_

The Phantom can't lift its head and keeps staring down at the hands that are clawing the fabric of its trousers. Wetness is falling from its eyes down onto the delicate skin of its hands and the Phantom sobs. Is there somebody in this world who can answer this question?

It has been here before. It has seen it before. It's all like deja-vu and the Phantom feels as if it's in a cube without windows or doors, and there's ink pouring into the room, the liquid rising higher and higher. No matter how hard the Phantom beats against the cube's walls its screams for help won't be heard, and no matter how high it tries to climb – on tables, on chairs, standing on tiptoes – the ink reaches its chest, its throat, coveres its mouth and starts suffocating it.

_I've been here before._

The Phantom leans over, presses its forehead on the cold surface of the interrogation table. It opens its mouth and starts breathing in and out, controlling. Those symptoms it's going through, those are none that the Phantom isn't familiar with. It's advised to cling to familiarity when humans are panicking.

There's no reason to panic, is there?

_Who am I?_

Throughout the years the Phantom had many faces and voices and identities. The Phantom is everyone and at the same time, who is it really? What of the things it accomplished belong to itself? Is anything still in its control?

Humans come and humans leave. They try talking to the Phantom, try to pry open its mouth or smear its mouth with honey to get it talking. But talking is of no interest to the Phantom. Why would it talk? Why would it matter?

_Can something that never existed die in the first place?_

„What exactly do you think you'll reach through silence?", a familiar voice asks. They never hit him physically. The Phantom isn't even sure that it would be able to feel pain, considering the mental state it's in right now. „Do you think that this will save you?"

_Save you._

The Phantom lifts its head. Even without all its gadgets and helpful tools and devices it still knows exactly who is sitting opposite of it on the other side of the interrogation table. Prosecutor Blackquill and he investigated so many cases together and had grown close in the course of approximately a year … or didn't they? Could the Phantom grow close to somebody?

„Do you have answers?", the Phantom asks and flinches when it hears the sounds that come out of its mouth. What even is it? Is that a voice? Whose voice is it?

Prosecutor Blackquill glares at the Phantom. Days have passed and those are the first words that the Phantom would speak?

An uproar goes through the Prosecutor's Office. Would they be able to make a breakthrough this time? Would they be able to succeed with this very difficult witness after all those days of trying for naught?

_Technically I could be an animal. Animals feel no remorse when they're killing their prey. Animals know the feelings of fear. It's just the basic instincts that nature gave us._

The Phantom tilts its head and listens to Prosecutor Blackquill, following its own train of thought. „Yes", it thinks, „from this perspective I must be an animal after all."

And it smiles. Its distorted facial features – something between Dahlia Hawthorne and the faces it had taken before that – twist into a most disturbing sight, sending chills over Blackquill's arms. He stands up in one fluent motion and slams his fist on the table, repeating his questions again and again but the smile on the Phantom's face does not change.

Defeated, Blackquill leaves the interrogation room and goes to consult with Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth. Maybe they need Wright's approach to problems one more time after all. It's an unpleasant thought, to think that they aren't able to deal with this witness, and that their time is running out. Every single country is furiously demanding to hand the Phantom over and the whole affair is close to escalating to a case of international importance.

„Interpol is sitting in our necks and once Interpol arrives we won't get another chance", Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth answers gloomily. He wouldn't want to admit defeat. Of course it may be the easier route to give the Phantom up to Interpol just like Edgeworth had done several times in his past already. He could even act as the assistant to an Interpol agent to help out and secure the truth if he wished so (this isn't unprecedented either). But would they be able to get the Phantom to talk even when Interpol was here?

„Prosecutor Blackquill, you mentioned the Phantom said something?", Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth asks, his fingers holding the report about the first interrogation tightly in his hands. His knuckles are whiter than the paper.

„_Do you have answers_", Prosecutor Blackquill repeats the Phantom's words, tilting his head and thinking about their meaning. If somebody in this office is able to come up with what the Phantom might be thinking then it has to be Prosecutor Blackquill because the Phantom has always been his field of interest. It's his personal enemy. It's his subject of study.

But even Prosecutor Blackquill can't understand the meaning of the nightmarish twisted smile on the Phantom's face as it puts back its head and smiles directly into the camera of questioning room Nr 4.

And then, the very second the Phantom's eyes meet the camera's lens every camera and every monitor in the Prosecutor's Building goes black, deleting the previously recorded footage of the Phantom's interrogations.


End file.
